Hour of Need
by WeAreShootingStars
Summary: (Tag to 2.1) He was looking for Tony, not looking for trouble. The night of the rave takes a terrible turn when Maxxie is jumped by a homophobic gang and everything goes from bad to worse. Maxxie!whump


TITLE: Hour of Need

Summary: (Tag to 2.1) He was looking for Tony, not looking for trouble. The night of the rave takes a terrible turn when Maxxie is jumped by a homophobic gang and everything goes from bad to worse. Maxxie!whump

So I just wrote this instead of finishing my college homework tonight but hey I've been sick af all weekend and really out of motivation/energy for anything at all. So the very fact I wrote and published this in one night is impressive for me. Yay. Leave it to whump to get me motivated.

Warnings: language (ok seriously, you're watching Skins.. I don't think you have a problem with language..) & blood

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 **Chapter 1: In Which it all goes to Shit**

"Tony!" Maxxie called, the pounding beats and strobing lights receding into the background as he made his way from the rave.

"Tone!" He tried again, but Tony had vanished into the night. Maxxie cursed himself silently. He was the one who had invited him, who had asked him to come, who should have been looking out for the kid. And now Tony was lost. Shit friend he had turned out to be. Maxxie clenched his fists and kept jogging into the wood behind the rave. Hopefully Tone was still within hearing range, and would respond if he did hear Maxxie's calls.

A sudden rustle in the trees ahead caught the blond's attention. He slowed down. More rustling. "Tone? Stop fuckin about yeah?"

The rustles came from behind him this time and Maxxie whipped around. "Tony?" He called, cautious, eyes straining to see through the darkness. Something wasn't right.

Someone chuckled in the blackness, and maxxie spun, finally catching sight of a figure behind a low tree branch. A twig snapped to his left and another figure caught the feeble light of the waning moon. More sardonic laughter and a hushed "Wait, wait". Maxxie's heart pounded, breathing heavy. He knew the signs. This wasn't the first time he'd gotten jumped. The world tended to hate his kind, and often felt the need to prove dominance. Maxxie swallowed hard. The big one behind the tree branch gave signal and the gang slowly emerged from the shadows. Maxxie spun, counting and reading them. Six older teens, most all fit with bare arms, ready to brawl.

The tallest moved in first."'Aight blowjob." He shoved Maxxie backwards, the blond regaining his balance smoothly with dancer's skill.

"Faggot!" another spat in his ear.

Suddenly it was a name calling free-for-all, the boys pushing and shoving with each harsh label. "Cock sucker!"

"Wanker!"

"Ay gay boy gay boy."

The shoving stopped for a moment as the boys gauged the reaction these first taunts had got. Maxxie breathed hard, eyes betraying his fear. There were too many of them, and they weren't gonna just talk it out this time. Suddenly Maxxie shoved between two of the shitheads, and was running. Sprinting. A sickening burst of whoops and howls followed close at his heels. The boys were in chase, a terrifying game of wolf and rabbit, each determined to wear down the other.

Maxxie's heart was pounding in time with his feet, his lungs straining to keep up with his rapid breaths. He was leaping over fallen trees, legs pumping, swerving and dodging foliage with his dancer's grace. Had he lost them? He-

A sudden wild hoot right beside him sent him careening down the leaf covered slope, arms pinwheeling desperate to regain any semblance of balance. But nature had other plans. His foot struck a root, sending him flat on his face.

Dazed, Maxxie tried to stand back up, get his bearings, but was thrown back down before he could fully process it. The boys had caught up, breathless whooping now dissolved into laughter. The big one sitting on Maxxie's back grabbed a handful of blond hair and yanked upward, earning a hiss of of pain from the boy under him.

"Not as fast as you thought you were, eh Bambi?" The Big One chuckled.

"Get 'im up," commanded the leader, a tall boy with a buzz cut and rat-like features.

Big One jerked Maxxie to his feet, keeping his wrists in a vicegrip behind him. Maxxie glared at the boys surrounding him, jaw set. The thick one with curly hair moved in first.

"How's that mental boyfriend of yours, gayboy?" Curly Hair laughed, "When's he gonna' get sent off to crazy town?"

Maxxie threw himself towards Curly growling. "Fuck you."

"Oh but you're gonna fuck 'im aren't ya?" the teen taunted, egged on by the blond's reaction, "Since he's a vegetable he can't say no, isn't tha' right?

Maxxies's stomach revolted at the thought of hurting Tony. "You're sick, you know that yeah?"

The boy with the big nose grinned sardonically. "I think you're the only sick one 'ere, faggot."

"I say we fix him up, shall we? Make him better?" The boys sniggered and Maxxie's breathing came fast and heavy. Gang jumps had always been mostly name calling and shoving, but this, this was real. And no Tony, Chris, or Anwar was going to arrive in time to break it up.

He was alone. Maxxie closed his eyes briefly, sending a silent prayer to whoever might be listening to get out of this alive.

"I say we go for his crown jewels first, eh boys?" grinned the leader. "That way no one will want to gay 'im anyway." Maxxie tense for the blow he knew was coming, but was still unprepared for the intensity of the pain. He dropped like a rock, curling in on himself and groaning.

The boys' laughter echoed as Maxxie's vision tunneled. He felt himself yanked up again by his underarms and blinked away the tears that stung his eyes. Big Nose landed a right hook on his jaw, and Maxxie tasted blood. Glaring daggers at the leader, he spat a stream of blood and saliva at his shirt.

The boys all stared at their leader, waiting to see his reaction to this crime. "You're gonna regret wearing all white tonight, angel boy," grit out leader Buzz Cut, before cuffing him solidly across the face. Maxxie's head spun and he felt himself dropped again. There wasn't even a full breath before six different shoes were on him, kicking, stepping. Maxxie twisted in on himself, attempting to make himself as small as possible. The feet and fists still found him though, pounding with wicked precision and ferocity.

THUMP! Maxxie groaned at the boot to the back.

THUMP! He was pretty sure he felt a rib crack but felt too numb to know for sure.

SNAP! Nope, not too numbnottoonumbohgodohgodohgod.

Suddenly he was on his back again, Buzz Cut straddling his damaged chest. Maxxie gasped at the pressure, desperate for air, stars crowding his vision. His throat was tightening, already meager air being cut off by his own scarf being pulled tight. Maxxie choked, darkness filling his sight. Air was beyond his reach, maybe it would always be.. Then the scarf was released and Maxxie was coughing and choking, air rushing back into battered lungs.

"Look at him wriggle!" crowed someone.

More blows, face: chest, back, arms. Something else snapped but this time Maxxie really didn't know what it was. It was hard to breathe, as if Buzz Cut was still sitting on his chest. Maxxie tried to bring his legs up, arms in, anything to protect himself from more blows. But they just kept coming. Everything hurt. Maxxie bit back a sob and curled tighter. The blessed blackness of unconsciousness couldn't come soon enough.

Finally, unconsciousness crept up to claim him as the blows tapered down and finally stopped. Voices drifted in and out, and Maxxie knew he should be worried, knew he should be calling for help or something, but he was so..tired.. It was only voices anyway..

"Is he dead?"

"No, dumbass he's not dead. See he's still breathin'?"

"Barely.. Right mess he is."

"Well at least the fuckin' fag won't be shaggin anyone for a while eh?"

"True that."

"Let's get out of here boys, let 'is dear old friends find gay boy."

One final kick sent Maxxie spiraling into the welcomed darkness.

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So should I continue? Dump? Who should find poor Maxxie? Let me know by leaving a comment below!


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